What if?
by GodDmnIt
Summary: "Sometimes, Judal had a single thought flash through his mind. A single thought that threatened his way of life and he couldn't allow for that to happen. What a stupid thought it was too." (ONE-SHOT)


Sometimes, Judal had a single thought flash through his mind. A single thought that threatened his way of life and he couldn't allow for that to happen. What a stupid thought it was too. A sigh escaped his lips as he promised himself this would be the last time he would allow this thought to cross his mind, just as he had the last two hundred times in his 20 years alive.

He longed for a place to belong. His heart constantly constricted in his chest, but he was a good actor, a wonderful one at that, and no body had ever caught on to his little act. They all assumed that he had been born filled with hatred and arrogance and malevolence, but it was quite the contrary, and when that became apparent to him, that little thought had begun to pop into his head and he couldn't stop it once he knew of the truth.

"What if?"

Yes. Yes it was such a simple thought and yet he could feel his world shake and could feel his head being sprinkled with small debris from the cracking of walls in his life. His eyes were closed as he let his mind wander and leaned against the wall of one of the many buildings with the Kou Empire. He sat atop a wall that was used to block out views of inside, but to block out the royal children's view of the outside world as well. It was one of the things that Gyokuen had designed herself. Another way for her to toy with her children and he found her ignorant and manipulative ways rather repulsing, quite the opposite of what others may believe him to think.

But yes, "what if?"

What if he had been raised with love and compassion?

What if he hadn't been Al Tharmen's plaything?

He stopped all of his "what ifs" in lieu of taking a bite of the sweet, sweet peach in his hand. The sweet fruit's juices quickly flowed over his tongue and he felt a tear prick at his eye at how nostalgic the fruits were. They were one of the _only _fond memories he held of his childhood. Kougyoku had indeed been all he had, other than a stubborn little Hakuryuu.

What if?

What if?

What if?

He realized that if he hadn't have been kidnapped by Al-Tharmen after his parents' double murder, he would have never met the old hag or the crybaby. The thought almost made him cringe. But if he hadn't have been raised that way, would he still be a magi of _depravity_? Or would he be able to finallly just be a magi? He really didn't have the answer to thought and let it go with a small sigh.

He realized that if his "what ifs" were true his buried away feelings and neglected hurting would be out on display for the world and that made him a bit uncomfortable. Would he be able to actually deal with it? He had always shoved away his pain into a bottle deep down inside of him and when it had all boiled over in Sindria, of all places, in front of Sinbad, of all people, he had been able to play it off as a means of mocking the Idiot King. He had lied about lying and he was almost certain Sinbad knew about it. They had been acquiantances for a long time now and had been something more than that for a while. Not that he knew what "something more" meant, but he was ok with that, because he would count Sinbad as "friend" on a good day if you begged him enough to admit to such a thing.

Here he came to another "what if?"

What if he actually loved someone? Loved someone in a romantic level? That thought confused him and he could feel his grip on his fishing line getting pulled further and further in by the fish that was on the other end of the hook. He didn't want to think about any of this anymore. That damned thought. Why couldn't it just leave him alone? What i- He stopped in his tracks mid-thought. He decided that he hated the phrase now.

The magi, with all of the beauty of a glorious and graceful panther, slipped down from his resting place, and stalked away languidly. He didn't have anywhere to be, didn't have anywhere to go, but he felt as if one of his special three could stop his racing thoughts. Each time he was near them they stopped them and turned all of his thoughts to them after all. Ah, yes: he would never go a day without his "what ifs" and "if onlys," but with each day with even a single "what if" he would go to one of his special three, and cuddle up to navy, red, or purple.


End file.
